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โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ"i guess i've been bruised,"name - silvestro marie perdu
nicknames - silv / marie
gender/pro - female / she/her
age/birthday - 24 / 5/09/1991
sexuality - pansexual
residency - san francisco, ca
occupation - lepidopterist
"if we were to speak plain."
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โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ"every bruise that comes to flesh,"positive traitsโข she has a dry sense of humor.
โข she's a listener, go to her for venting.
โข she's the light around a black hole.
โข she tries to understand most things.
โข you dont have to explain your emotions.
โข she is interesting to be acquainted with.
โข she loves you all the same.
"makes it's mark on the brain."
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one word to describe silvestro is empty. its hard to learn her personality due to how quiet she is. her actions dont say much either, but you can tell she was raised with some dignity. she sits with perfect posture, and the few times she does speak she never breaks eye contact. her voice is dull and emotionless, and seemingly has only one tone: indifference. her tongue is sharp with heavy consonants and vowels, she speaks clearly. her eyes with their dark pockets, are a clue that she doesn't sleep much. her milky irises seem to catch everything that's happening.
her senses are off the roof, she sees all who try to get away with something. she can detect all lies, but once she puts her full love and trust into you she never suspects a thing. her character is flawed, to say the least. shes confusing in her own little way, silent and seemingly a void. yet so much happens inside of her head, things she would never share, only a ghost of events to be whispered on a cold night. its extremely difficult to get her to talk regularly, and when you do it is only clipped answers.
silvestro is a puzzle, and once shes all put together youll see the bigger picture. that she is merely a person who sees the world in a whole different array of colors. shes not different, shes the normal one and youre the one who doesnt think correctly. her ever growing creativity ignites a fire in art, a masterpiece made for her to look at. shes a whirl of light, sunlight streaming in on stained glass in a church. hazy days with the sun low and the moon high, shes warm mornings with comfortable silence that youd wish would last forever.
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ"you say it's always been,"negative traitsโข she's been closed off for a while.
โข most people sit in lukewarm waters.
โข she often gets lost in her head.
โข she's emotionally unstable.
โข its hard to understand her feelings.
โข she doesnt take care of herself well.
โข she cannot, at all, handle being alone.
"and always will be."
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as a child she was bubbly, bouncy, and a ticking love bomb. she was the one to initiate conversations, the one to drag you along, the one to get you to be you. she was beautiful, youth gracing her features with flawless ivory skin and eyes that were alive. she was beloved, having many friends who enjoyed her company completely. she was everything you'd want to be, and in the back of her brain something waited.
silvestro grew, as did her personalty. she passed junior high with flying colors, making new partners and relationships. high school hit her and so did the lonely nights. the days shed wish for someone to hold her, and the more she realized how staying up late with her own thoughts was extremely dangerous. she distanced herself from herself, busying herself with countless paper work, side jobs, and even illegal trades. she was infatuated with things to do, and the more projects she accepted, the weaker she became. her marks dropped despite her working deep into the the night, used and empty highlighters mocking her.
her hands shook when she spoke, and the bruised purple under her eyeballs sunk lower and lower as time went on. eventually, she broke. her mind was taunting herself, teasing and whispering things she didnt want to hear. she was on the edge of hysterics, wanting to get away from everyone and everything. she left without a word, changing her number and moving to california. a clean slate. silvestro locked her own self into her head, where she could never escape.
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ"anything you say has already"
"been said, a million times."โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ"she was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. she was beautiful, for the way she thought. she was beautiful, for that sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. she was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile even if she was sad. no, she wasnt as beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. she was beautiful, deep down to her soul."
it all started with the way his hand lay perfectly in hers. the way their voices tuned to each others in perfect harmony. the way their footsteps would echo each other as soon as they begun. she was deeply in love, and he felt the same. long nights spent together, soft giggles into the phone, and the unbelievable feeling of it all. castor lit up her life with a whole new spectrum of hues. her head fit flawlessly into his shoulder, his eyelashes brushing against her cheeks in a gentle butterfly kiss, and the song of lovers that were meant to be.
silvestro and castor's relationship is simple. true love. their personalities flow together like a heavenly river. his brash way of explaining things, and how is isnt afraid to speak his mind. her quietness and serenity, and how her ears are always open. he is the one thing she didnt leave, instead taking his love with her all the way to california. she often sits by him in a comfortable silence, relishing the days when they were new lovers. theyre both situated to each other, and she only really talks in full sentences when speaking to him. he in return does the same, opening up to her as well.
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ"do you think of all of the side"
"streets weโve walked past?"โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ"i guess there isnt really a reason for me to run away. ive got a great life, no real problems, but sometimes i just want to get up and go, without any direction. lose my way and forget where i come from. sometimes i just want to see something new. not the same old thing. its not that im running away from something, more like im running to something new."
iridescence brings more dangerous thoughts out of silvestro. it was around the time she had her daughter that the woman had wounded her head. she always wanted to forget that happened, yet everyday she looks at her daughter's face she is reminded. she was born early, interrupting silvestro's studies and they were financially ill at the time. life was hard and with her daydreaming it was even worse. its difficult to point out their relationship because they remained at such a distance they didnt know anything about the other. silvestro never talks to her or mentions her in a conversation.
the woman has no intentions of reuniting themselves, even failing to tell her happy birthday when the time rolls around. its a lose cause, and silvestro has even gone as far as to start saying she does not have a daughter, in hopes to never bring her up in conversation. all pictures have been removed from her house, her room cleared out into an office, same with anything that could remind her. its not iridescence's fault, it was a mere coincidence that she so happened to be in the "right" place at the wrong time.
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ"or, our buried skeletons in the back yard?"notesโข there are a total of 9 sections.
xโข relationship = 1, box = 1, big text = 1
xโข lyrics/titles are part word count in boxes.
โข each big side/open text has 250+ words.
โข this is a writing based form.
โข this is a rather long form.
xโข pm me if i need to make a forum instead.
the song is "skeletons" by jr jrโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ it started with a rather bumpy car ride. it was late at night and silvestro was only a mere pregnant college student at the time. the moon reflected off of her sunroof, falling gently into the vehicle. she was heading home from the library, books stacked in the passenger seat beside her. they were labeled and pictured with moths, butterflies, and the over all study of lepidoptera. she remembered her painted nails, purple with little white hearts dotted around randomly. the way her hair was tied up in a messy bun, fake black glasses with no lenses adorning her slim face.
she rode down the highway, paying the toll to her city. the library in larger cities were better and had the things she needed. a drunk driver skidded in front of her, and the woman had little to no reaction time before her car slammed into the other, metal and sparks flying with a sickening thud. she blacked out, and awoke in another place. except it wasnt like her previous life at all, she was living like she didnt get hit and was pulling into her driveway. confused, she thought she mustve dosed off and continued her night with lugging the literature out of her car into her house.
she bent over to set the books down, and when she popped back up she was in the hospital room with bright lights and panicked voices. her husband peeked in, eyes red with tears and thats when she remembered the baby. she yelled at the doctor, who came over and quietly told her the baby was ok. she closed her eyes in bliss, and when she opened them she was back in her house with the stack of books next to her. she was sent into hysterics, and the doctor quietly spoke to castor that silvestro has developed maladaptive daydreaming.